Sunday, October 31, 2010

hip hip hooray!

Finally.
After 8 years of keeping this kid in acid-free paper and prisma-color markers, it has finally paid off.
Punk just won a $50 savings bond for winning the "Kids Voting" contest for the city.  (though, if I calculate the price of his high-end art supplies - that's paid for exactly one ream of paper and seven markers.).

His winning entry will be featured on posters, and will go to the state contest as well.  The theme this year was a salute to veterans, and his entry was pure Punk.  We'll put it up as soon as we can.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

hat shopping

I picked this hat out by myself.
Completely,
totally,
by myself.

It took me five minutes
(though it took the lady who made it 24 hours).

We did not test out any hats.
We did not have discussions about hats.
We did not research hats.
We did not photoshop hats onto the baby's head to get a "true feel" for the hat.

I just found it.
I liked it.
I bought it.
I think Yoda does too.




P.S. - If you love it, you can get one here.

punk's turn

After showing off my two cute chicks - it's only fair that we demonstrate how well Punk cleans up when he has to.  It was right before his choir concert. He really didn't want me to take his picture in a tie (he really didn't want a tie at all - but finally consented when I shelled out for the Looney Tunes version.) Not too shabby . . . .

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

kooka's surprise

BEFORE




AFTER

After 6 years of nothing but trims, Kooka wanted a new look - she wouldn't let me post it until she surprised her dad and her teachers, so here goes . . . pretty drastic, but we think she looks adorable!

why me?

I've done my stint as a camp counselor, camped more than most people, swam in two oceans and the disgusting Mississippi river - I am not a wuss.

But I do have my limits.

There are not many things worse than finding a possum walking around on your porch - except maybe  a bevvy of bats in your shower, or a nest of vipers in your Craiglist couch or maybe a coven of witches in your pantry - there are a few worse things.

But not many.

We were sitting in the living room when I saw it - a little rat like tail sliding across the window by the front door. The kids were thrilled - never seen one in real life before, and here it was on our front stoop, just hanging out, looking for a snack.  I almost threw up.  I hate everything about possums; the naked whippy tails, the pink noses, the sharp teeth, the way they play dead and then jump up at the last minute, the way they will eat anything . . . anything

So after I watched him mosey a safe distance from the front door, I immediately turned on Rico, opened the door, and pushed him out. "Get rid of it."

"What?!" The man was standing there in his stocking feet with nothing but a burp rag to defend himself.  Ask me if I cared.

When I finally let him back into the house, I was still not convinced.

With good reason.

Tonight, after Punk's choir concert, we are pulling into the garage, when I see it again. The car has not even stopped moving when I am shouting at him to get out.  "YOU - go get that possum!"

"Where?"

By this point the vile critter is snaking his way through the spokes of Rico's bike, climbing up the shelves, and I am shouting. "Over there! GO GET HIM! He has been LIVING in our garage!"

"No way!  I have to call animal control! What if he has rabies?"

"He doesn't."

"How do YOU know?"

"Possums are immune to rabies."  I am pretty sure I read that somewhere, but even if I didn't, I still think that Rico should take this one for the team.

The kids and I jump out of the car and scramble into the house. Punk runs back out to watch the action. I peek out and see Rico armed with a plastic snow shovel. "How's it going?" I ask.

"Shut up!  This is not funny!  He wants to bite me."

Punk is prodding him along with a faded swim noodle.

Rico is shouting, "He's really nasty."

A few minutes of silence pass, before I hear, "Hey little possum, wanna go for a ride?"

I allow myself to crack the door open again.  Punk is laughing hysterically.  "Where is it?" I demand.

"Rico's giving him a ride."  I look into the driveway, and see the little rodent hitching a ride in the back of  Kooka's little red wagon. My knight in shining armor looks like a 5 year-old taking his favorite beanie baby for a midnight stroll.

He lets it off in the neighbor's driveway.  It makes a beeline for her garage.

Same neighbor lets her dog "visit" our front lawn every day.

Rico looks up and says, "You let your dog take a crap on my lawn .  . . I sick my possum on you."

Again, I am pretty sure possums are immune to rabies - but if I'm wrong, I feel very strongly that Joan should take this one for the team.

Monday, October 25, 2010

my cute daughters

Daughter number one refuses to let me post her picture until Wednesday evening. (With good reason - details to follow).

However, daughter number two has no such hang ups, and was more than willing to oblige me.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

sugar and spice

 . . . and everything nice, that's what little girls are made of.

Apparently our little girl has a bit more on her plate. During the last load of laundry, Kooka's pants pocket brought forth: one washer, a spring, a flathead screw, one rape whistle, 3 dimes, a bullet casing, and a lone ghetto-style Lee-press-on-nail.

Must be that MacGyver unit in science class.

Friday, October 15, 2010

breakfast

No offense honey - but this guy puts even Rico's breakfasts to shame.

Check out Jim's Pancakes.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

jobs

So Kooka asks:

"Mom what do you think I should be when I grow up . . . a hair stylist or a NASA research scientist?"

And before you start speculating on what you think is the obvious answer here, let me just say, that I did give this considerable thought. All I really want is for my kids to be happy healthy, and fairly productive members of society.

I can see her doing either job, but Kooka is not afraid to state her opinion - often - with great fanfare.

"If your frustrum location aids, are made of anything less than the highest grade silicone, there could be an intake of O2 that could cause condensation in the range safety system, and a possible internal combustion situation."

or . . .

 "If you really want me to put that nasty brassy color on top of your over-processed hair I will - I mean, it's your funeral. But don't come crying to me when your boyfriend asks for that engagement ring back because you look like D-list reality show star."


That is why I said scientist.


But Punk has also been asking me what vocations I think would best suit him (only if the animation thing doesn't work out).  I told him that I thought he'd make an excellent teacher - maybe elementary - even kindergarten.

"That's a really good idea Mom," he said. "Because I would be like the very first person that these little kids ever saw at school.  I would be the one to give them their first impression.  I could help lead them down that path - I would be the one to help them decide if school is going to be really cool for them."

"That's true," I said, my heart swelling with pride at my too-cool 6th grader - (an A student, despite his grumblings)  imagining the positive influence he could have on young students.

"And you know what Mom?"

"What?"

"I'm gonna make sure that school sucks for them as much as it does for me."

Let's hope that animation thing works out.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

story time

We read a lot in this house, and it's never too early to start.
I read this book Moo, Baa, La La La to Punk when he was just days old.
He read it to Kooka as soon as she could hold her head up.
And now Kooka reads it to Yoda - who absolutely loves it.  Her favorite part is the singing pigs.

Friday, October 8, 2010

love this



Saw these guys on TV, and although the guy on left has the lion's share of the talent - the guy on the right sounds exactly like MJ. 

I want to be this good at something - ANYTHING.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

winter fun

For those of you who read the post on stroller shopping, you will feel my pain when I say . . .

Yoda needs a snowsuit.

And despite the fact that there are a thousand and one reasons that I love Rico, I would rather eat the contents at the bottom of Punk's backpack than go online shopping with my baby daddy.

Allow me to preface this by telling you, that I had already selected a perfectly acceptable baby bunting about three weeks ago.  Of course, I didn't have nearly as many stipulations as Rico. My only criteria was that it not be overly warm, and that for the love of God, the hood did not have ears. Now I will admit that the latter proved to be more difficult than it would seem.  Apparently everyone from Baby GAP to Walmart is under the false impression that I want my newborn to look like a dollar store plush toy  every time we venture into the great outdoors. Of the three suits I found that did not have teddy bear ears attached to the hood, one had long dangly rabbit ears, another had a padded head and icing stripes to make your baby look like "a sweet gingerbread darling", and the third gives the impression that Snoopy is actually barfing your baby's face right out into the harsh midwestern elements.


But I digress, this post is about Rico's hangups - not mine.

So, despite the fact that my sweet little fleece suit could be delivered to our doorstep in less than a week for under thirty bucks, Rico just had to "research"  to "make sure there wasn't something better."

And of course, there was.

He was pretty sure that he didn't want a wrap after all.  He wanted a zipper.  No wait - he wanted two zippers.  And he wanted it to be super warm - but not so thick that we can't still stuff her into the Baby Bjorn and go for a midwinter hike. It needed foot coverings - and they had to be foot shaped - not straight, because he is not talking his baby out in public with stumps for legs. And god forbid it had the jester tassles, because "That is not how our baby dresses - she'll look like a fool."

This suit should not be too warm when we're just hanging out, but still keep her warm even at 20 below.  After pointing out the fact that I am not taking our baby out in sub-arctic temperatures, I offered to have her hosed down with self-adhesive insulation foam, and just leave her until mid-March. He seemed to consider it, but then decided the color just didn't match her skin tone, and went back to obsessing.

I tried to explain that we did not need the Patagonia infant snow suit.  Though I'm sure it's a steal at $124.95 and warmth up to 60 below, I have no intention of letting Yoda snowboard the mountains of Argentina, or hike the Appalachain trail this winter.  (Though with the stroller we purchased, it is certainly within our capabilities.)

Needless to say, the child still has no winter coverings.  The upside is that it's mid-October and the weather is still in the 60's.  The downside:

She's also gonna need a hat . . . .